Eric Flint: Grantville Gazette.Volume XIII

"Yes. Natasha mentioned it. I understand that the income tax and the business tax are meeting quite a bit of resistance."

"That's a diplomatic way of putting it." Vladimir laughed. "I worked it out. It would cost my family several million of your dollars every year. While my family is quite well off, we're not the richest nobles in Muscovy, not by any means. If that tax is done just a little bit wrong, it could ruin half the nobles in Muscovy. I sent my sister a description of your system of tax deductions for things like capital investment along with Cass and Bernie's 'Precious.' Frankly, I don't think it will happen unless Czar Mikhail can come up with something to sweeten the pot."

"So, what can he give them?"

"For right now, I'm not sure." Vlad leaned back on the couch. "But in a few years, relief from having to have serfs might do it."

"Don't count on it, Vlad." Brandy shook her head. "The serfs could end up as factory workers and have even less freedom than they have now. 'I owe my soul to the company store.' If it could happen in America, where we-at least in theory-all had the same rights, think how much easier it could happen in Muscovy where serfs are already restricted in when they can quit."

Vladimir sighed. "I know. Adam Smith and all your economists tell us that free labor is more productive than slaves or serfs. That slavery and serfdom is bad for the economy of the nation. But what they usually neglect to mention is that it's still very profitable for the people who own the slaves." He looked down at his coffee cup.

"Brandy, I've lived here for a long time and have accepted many of your principles, but that doesn't mean my countrymen have. I agree that serfdom must be eliminated but I don't see any way to do it."

When Brandy got up to light the gas lights against the darkening of the room, Vlad moved just a tad closer to her end of the sofa. Whenever she leaned forward to pour more coffee, or stood to busy herself with something, he moved just a little bit closer. Eventually, Vlad was right where he wanted to be. Close, nearly touching.

Brandy looked a little nervous when she discovered just how close he was. Deciding not to give her, or himself, a chance to bolt, Vladimir took one of her hands in his own. "Branya, I have something I want to speak of, something that is not about Bernie or even about Muscovy."

Brandy's breath caught just a bit before she nodded at him. "You can speak to me about anything, Vladimir. What is it?"

He had been quite confident of her response when he had written the letters asking permission from Czar Mikhail and informing Natasha of his intent. Somehow, that confidence had disappeared when he had been informed that Mikhail had agreed to the marriage-at least conditionally. The condition being that she make a valid conversion. And Natasha had informed him that several ladies of the family would be coming to Grantville to look Brandy over. At that point he had seen the looming disaster of his aunts arriving to inspect her before he even asked for her hand.

But Vladimir was still hesitating and Brandy was looking at him expectantly. "I am not one of your up-time men, Branya. And I may not have the correct words. But I have grown very… fond of you. Very fond. And I, I…" Vlad paused a moment. "I wish you to be my wife, Branya. I wish it very much."

Brandy's eyes glittered in the candlelight. "Wife? You want to get married?"

"I do," Vlad said. He watched her face closely. What would she answer?

"Yes."

Half an hour later, after some very pleasant kissing and some not so pleasant explanation. Brandy wasn't quite so sure.

"We don't do that," Vladimir said, sounding a bit desperate. "Abandon thy family, abjure thy name." He shook his head. "It sounds glorious, but Romeo and Juliet ended up dead. When my sister married an English count-with my father's permission but without his converting-it almost ruined the family. Were I to marry without the czar's consent, our family's property could be seized and my sister could end her life in a convent. Forced to take holy orders. Not because Mikhail would want to do it, but because the cabinet would insist."

Brandy knew that was all too likely an outcome. But Vladimir was continuing. "If I asked the czar first and you said no, I would look foolish. But if I asked you first and the czar said no, I didn't know what I would do. I didn't wish to make a promise to you until I was sure I could keep it."

"All right!" Judy was grinning from ear to ear. "All right, Brandy. So, when's the wedding? What are you going to wear?"

"I don't know to the first question." Brandy took a sip of root beer. "And I don't know to the second one, for that matter."

All the members of the Barbie Consortium who were attending the monthly lunch looked confused. "It's more complicated than I knew." Brandy sighed. "It turns out that Vlad is sort of a prince or something like that. He can't just get married, not to a foreigner, not to anybody, really. He has to get permission."

Vicky Emerson looked outraged. "What, from his father? He's a grown man. Why ask for permission?"

Brandy shook her head. "His parents are dead. Both of them. Two sisters, Natasha in Muscovy and Adelia in England. No, it's not his parents, it's the czar. He had to get permission from the czar. He apparently asked him before he asked me," Brandy added, with some resentment. Vladimir had explained that he had to do it that way but it still pissed her off. "And then there's the religion thing, too."

"Religion thing?" Hayley Fortney paused in the act of sipping tea. "There's a religion thing, too?"

Brandy nodded again, and sort of sighed. "Yeah. It's all going to take a while, it looks like. I'd just as soon go down to City Hall and have a civil ceremony, get all the hoopla over with. But Vlad's church will not recognize a civil ceremony, he says. It's against canonical law. And, it turns out that if he gets married in any church except a Russian Orthodox church, he could be charged with treason. So we figure we better wait."

"That's kind of hard, isn't it?" Judy looked around at the girls. "Your Vlad is a nice looking guy. A nice guy in general, for that matter. I bet you hate waiting."

"Well, one thing about it." Brandy shrugged. "At least we ought to be really sure about it when it does happen. Vlad says he probably ought to have a priest come here, anyway. Natasha is sending a bunch of people from his lands and they're all going to go to school here. And to the oil field. So they need a priest. They wouldn't be comfortable going to St. Mary's. We're probably looking at six or eight months to wait."

"That's just about enough time," Judy muttered.

"Enough time?"

"Yeah," Judy grinned. "Just about enough time to plan a really big, really nice wedding."